


Marked

by edibleflowers



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:18:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hours later, Joey can't stop touching Justin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea which was inspired very very very strongly by an image from the beginning of [dirty dirty](http://boudicca.com/oncebitten/dirtydirty.html), by cathybites and stubbleglitter, so this is posted with all due apologies for ganking the idea.

When Joey wakes, it's late. Or maybe it's early; all he knows is that the sky through the window is black, and when he closed his eyes, it was still the deep blue of edging night.

Beside him, Justin mutters something incomprehensible and rolls over, now facing away from Joey, deliciously bare to the moonlight. Joey inhales sharply. Justin has mostly kicked off the covers in his sleep, and the long expanse of his back, broad shoulders sliding down smooth curve of spine into neat, toned ass, it's all visible, limned in silver, utterly beautiful. Joey leans over with his weight propped on an elbow and traces two fingers down the cleft of Justin's buttocks. He's still slick there, with lube, with semen; the soft muscle of his opening parts easily, allowing Joey's fingers in. The arousal kicks straight to Joey's brain and bounces around like a pinball caught in an endless loop.

Justin makes a noise -- petulant, sleepy, needy -- and shifts to rest full on his stomach, so quickly that Joey's fingers are freed by the movement. Joey growls low in his throat; he can't tell if Justin's asleep now or just teasing him, though his breathing remains slow and steady. Joey's so turned on it aches, despite the fact that they'd stayed in bed most of the day making love; by rights, he should be sore, drained -- certainly not aroused all over again, definitely not climbing over Justin and pressing his cock between Justin's buttocks, letting it slide in the slickness remaining there. Oh, that's exquisite: Joey groans low and lowers his head so that he can lick a salty swipe up Justin's nape.

"Whozzat," Justin says distinctly, and he nestles upward, back, pushing his ass greedily against Joey's straining erection. "Joe."

"Yeah," Joey says hoarsely, still not quite sure whether Justin's awake. Justin has been known to talk in his sleep, even to respond to questions. Joey doesn't stop pushing his cock against Justin, though, part of him feeling terrible and ashamed for taking advantage of Justin while he's asleep, another part so overwhelmed with white-hot lust that it wants him to just push inside right now, give Justin a wake-up call he'll never forget.

Justin makes a strangled low noise and flings an arm out, and Joey pulls back a little, lets his erection nudge between Justin's buttocks to find the perfect center of heat, and oh, Justin is still so slippery-wet and loose that Joey could just push, could just rock forward and be inside him in one thrust. He's a little mortified that he's actually considering doing it. Then again, it's not like Justin would _mind_... and oh, God, is he actually attempting to engage his brain while most of his blood is between his legs?

"Fucking do it already," Justin says, then, very distinct and clear despite his face being buried in the pillow. Joey can't hold back any longer; he pushes up and in and in that one smooth stroke he's buried, deep inside Justin's body, everything concentrated into where Justin grips him with an unholy pleasure. Justin's groan slides out on the heels of the stroke, and even as Joey pulls back, Justin's rocking up, too, trying to keep Joey from getting out of him.

It's all smooth and hot after that, Justin's hands clenched around dowels of the headboard, Joey draped over him like a blanket, crooning and licking his ear and biting his shoulder, every movement slow and unhurried, unrushed. They've played it fast and furious earlier tonight, they had some leisurely slow lovemaking, and this is somewhere in between, because even as Joey works his hips in seemingly careless motions, he's still grinding his hips against Justin's ass at the end of every push, he's still scraping his teeth across the sensitive skin at the base of Justin's neck. So many marks tomorrow, Justin's going to have to wear a turtleneck.

Despite the intensity of it, they're strangely quiet; Joey usually talks during sex, but he can't seem to make any sound but the occasional grunt with a particularly rough thrust, or a low moan when Justin shoves back to meet him, then worms a hand underneath himself to start working his own cock in a furious rhythm. It can't last, as much as Joey wants it to, because each roll of his pelvis speeds a little more until he's slapping against Justin's ass, shoving in hard and fast, fast, fast, until Justin lets out a raw, ragged yelp and his whole body seems to grab Joey and pull his orgasm out of him.

When the room stops spinning, they're curled up on the not-so-sticky part of the bed, Justin savoring the taste of Joey's lips. His own lips are kiss-stung, bruised, glossy, and Joey knows he must look much the same way. He likes it, the physical reminder of the intensity of their lovemaking. It makes him shiver to think of it.

"Sore," Justin murmurs, when Joey runs an absent hand down his back and squeezes a buttock. Joey immediately draws his hand back, murmuring an apology, but Justin smiles up at him and shakes his head. "Feels good. I like it."

"OK," Joey says, dropping a kiss into Justin's hair, and closes his eyes, making himself a promise not to molest Justin for at least twelve hours. It's a promise he has a feeling he's going to break.


End file.
